


Unsourced

by coolasdicks



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Diapers, Don't Judge Me, Gen, Generalized Anxiety Disorder mentioned in passing, M/M, Mentions of poop, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolasdicks/pseuds/coolasdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill:</p>
<p>"ah ot6 Prompt: Michael wears a diaper for some reason and doesn’t tell the others until he shits himself and everyone tells how it’s not a big deal and they help him clean up and stuff."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsourced

It was easy to forget about it.

Michael’s day consisted of activities that rarely required him to leave his desk, but he was a naturally active person. His mind wandered all too easily, and without any real thought, he was often out of his chair, fucking with Gavin or roaming the building, searching for an interesting conversation or a project to jump in on. That was, after all, how he got his job on RWBY.

After his multiple years of working at Roosterteeth, Michael had grown comfortable walking around with the knowledge that he had what many would consider a hefty secret in his pants. And as enticing and seductive as that singular sentence sounded, the reality was terribly embarrassing and awkward.

It was in no way a fetish, though that’s what many minds would jump to had they been told Michael was wearing a diaper. It was for adults, the product’s costumers mainly old folks who couldn’t control their bowel movements. Michael could control his bowel movements as much as the next guy, given that next guy wasn’t an old dude.

It was more of a psychological issue. His childhood therapist diagnosed him with a mild case of generalized anxiety disorder, and after an incident of literally shitting himself in elementary school, the constant fear of a repeat performance haunted him to this day. His sudden onset phobia was worsened when he shit himself _again_ in high school.

And because Michael was a totally rational human being, the logical conclusion he reached was to wear a diaper on days that his crippling anxiety struck him.

Each experience where he’d pooped himself was traumatic and humiliating, but Michael was lucky enough to have been able to control himself as he progressed into his adult years. No more nightmarish episodes occurred after he secured a job at RT, but he still tended to find the diaper necessary day to day. It was fine – his baggy pants hid it, and his coworkers never noticed.

When his coworkers transformed into boyfriends, they still didn’t notice. The relationship itself was an oddity and the way that it grew was even stranger. They didn’t question what they had, simply thankful that they had it, and no problems concerning Michael’s weird quirk.

He planned to keep it a secret, but of course his anxiety-ridden mind worked against him.

It seemed to have no source. It started as an utterly normal Wednesday, with a Let’s Play recorded early in the morning and a Things Do To at noon. Uninvolved in either of the two, Michael mindlessly edited on the side, feeling slightly left out. He had one side of the headphone slid off his ear to listen to his boyfriends laugh and play together. His tongue tingled with jealousy, but he bit the tip of it and instead just glared at his screen, clicking angrily as he cut out quite bits in their latest Let’s Play.

His attention was piqued when he heard his name mentioned amongst the giggling men. The sound was oddly taunting to him, the sharp break to each chuckle casting a rather mean spirited edge to their laughter. He glanced at them cautiously, chest tightening when he saw that they were looking at him. They burst into even more laughter. Geoff’s glorious giggles were no longer quite as charming.

“What?” he said defensively, but they ignored him, trading glances before focusing back on their games. They were all gathered on the other side of the room; Gavin, Geoff, Ryan, and Jack shoulder-to-shoulder as they crowded around the monitor of the large TV hung up on the wall.

He opened his mouth to characteristically bitch, but no noise came out when he hesitated, doubt clouding his mind. Frowning, he turned back to his own computer, palm slippery with sweat as he handled his mouse. His heartbeat was elevated, memories reminding Michael of his unpleasant past. He licked his lips.

His stomach gurgled. Looking down at it in surprise, Michael blanched, cheeks feeling cold as the blood drained from his face. A sharp spike of pain ripped through his gut, causing the redhead to hunch over and clutch at his stomach. Sudden, heart-stopping fear leaked into his mind and his breathing sped up in panic. His eyes filled with tears of humiliation as a familiar rumble vibrated deep in his stomach, the noise audible to him as he knocked the headphones off his ears with a fumbling hand.

“Aye, Geoff wins!” Jack cheered, laughing as Geoff threw up his arms with an enthusiastic yell, voice cracking as it so often did. The sound of his headphones clattering onto his keyboard made the rest of the guys hesitate in their celebration, but Gavin was quick to refocus them so they could end the video.

“I think that’ll make a good video!” Gavin said into the microphone, sounding giddy.

“I think so!” Geoff bolstered. “And – Let’s quit!”

The click of the mouse signaled Geoff pressing the end capture button. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone on the room, save for Michael who was holding his in trepidation. His stomach ached, the feeling of movement deep in his intestines causing a whine to slip through his lips.

“What are you doing, Michael?” Gavin laughed, wheeling his chair back to its rightful place at his own desk. He left Jack to put away the equipment, much more curious to see what was bothering Michael.

“Nothing,” Michael spat in a shaky voice, reaching down to grab at his headphones. The motion of stretching down made a sharp burst of agony lance through his abdomen, causing his eyes to swim with tears. He froze.

Gavin sent him an odd look but shrugged, settling back at his computer and absorbing back into his work. Michael grunted and swung his headphones back onto his desk, panting with the effort of trying to control himself. He could hear his own breathing speeding up in his ears, the sound loud and hacking, and he had to push himself up with a hand on the top of his desk.

“Michael, what are you doing?” Jack asked, laughing. “Lamaze?”

He shot up from his desk, sending his chair flying back to collide with Geoff’s. The tattooed man yelped, clearly startled, and turned around to glare at the redhead, the expression on his face quickly turning to confusion when he saw the panic in Michael’s eyes.

“Bathroom,” Michael whimpered, but before he even lifted a foot off the ground, a very distinct, very _unfortunate_ sensation ripped through his abdomen, causing him to lurch forward with a sharp gasp. Warmth bled through his trousers and tears instantly sprang to his eyes, familiar shame causing the moisture to overflow and stream down his cheeks.

He toppled over, arm slamming into his desk as he struggled to regain his balance. His keyboard was sent rocketing into Ray’s direction, the rest of his mementos and keepsakes falling off his desk with a loud crash. He grabbed at the corner of the wooden top in a weak attempt to right himself, but only succeeded in causing the entire thing to shift, his computer monitor tilting until it completely fell over onto Ray’s desk.

A pair of hands clutched at his biceps, another wrapping around his waist. They couldn’t stop his descent, however, and Michael quickly slammed into the floor, his temple knocking against the leg of the desk. His vision went spotty, but it wasn’t a result of hitting his head – panic was overwhelming his senses, hysteria blooming thick and heavy on his tongue. His legs went numb, collapsing under him. There was an uncomfortable squish sensation when he plopped his ass on the ground, the feeling only causing more tears to streak down his reddened cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck,” Michael cursed, voice wobbling from stress. Frustration was hot in his throat as he grabbed onto whoever was standing on his right. His legs were tangled in the wheels of his chair but he felt someone violently rip the obstacle away from him, a heavy presence crowding him from the right.

“Michael, what’s wrong?” Geoff asked frantically, the redhead’s shirt bunched up in one tattooed fist. He let go to instead grab Michael’s face between his hands, forcing Michael to look at him with his stupid crying eyes and red cheeks and blubbering noises, _fuck –_

“Michael, are you okay? D-Did you – uh – did you just –” Geoff’s eyes widened and Michael shut his, shame bubbling up his chest and spilling out of his mouth in the form of broken sentences.

“Oh, gross!” he heard Gavin wail. Just the sound made Michael’s heart stop, a terrible, horrifying memory cropping up instantly, as soon as the words were passed the Brit’s lips. _Michael pooped himself! Gross what a freak! That’s so disgusting –_

A loud _thwap_ was just audible through the roar in Michael’s ears. If he had to guess, someone had smacked Gavin for such an insensitive comment, but Michael couldn’t even enjoy it.

The time that Geoff had shit himself had been a fucking riot, but now it felt like Michael’s entire world was caving in. His hands shook as he covered his face, hiding his wet eyes from Geoff’s view.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” he choked out, biting his lip to hold back the follow-up whimper. A hand rubbed soothingly up and down his back, another coming to pet at his hair. Michael folded in on himself, shoulders trembling as he swallowed the wracking sobs. Unpleasant, repressed memories swarmed his mind and his eyes squeezed shut as taunting laughter and disgusted squeals ricocheted off the corners of his mind.

“We aren’t, we aren’t laughing at you,” Jack said in a consoling voice. He was kneeling in front of Michael, his deep voice oddly soothing to the redhead. Michael wasn’t sure if it was obvious to the others that he was having a mental breakdown literally right in front of them, or if he was even crying, but they weren’t laughing as they had when Geoff had shit his pants. There was dead silence in the small room, interrupted only by Michael’s occasional sniffle or the shuffling of one of the boy’s feet.

“Michael, if you wanna stand, we can help you clean up,” Ryan offered in a small voice. Michael had never heard the blonde talk in such a meek tone.

Michael shook his head in embarrassment, not as a refusal but more of denial that this was happening – he was twenty five fucking years old and here he was sitting on the office floor with a goddamn diaper full of shit. Meanwhile, his boyfriends were milling around him, probably holding in comments of disgust and mean-spirited mirth.

“C’mon, Michael, it’s not that big of a deal,” Geoff said awkwardly. The silence was thick enough to swim in.

“Can – can you just leave for a second?” Michael stammered, hands firmly placed over his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to meet any of his lovers’ eyes. There was a long pause.

“Let me at least help you, Michael,” Geoff said in a soft tone, his arm wrapping around the redhead’s shoulders. “Your elbow is bleeding and I think your monitor might be cracked.”

“Nah, it’s good,” Ray piped up for the first time. He, at least, wasn’t speaking in a tone that resembled one of a vet tending to an injured animal. Ray was always remarkably good at keeping his cool in a situation such as this. Michael wasn’t even sure when the Puerto Rican had entered the room.

“My elbow isn’t bleeding,” Michael lied stubbornly, wiping quickly at the scrape covering his forearm. He smeared the residual blood onto the carpet.

“C’mon,” Geoff said more insistently, tucking Michael under his arm and gently pulling him off the ground.

“No, no, stop,” Michael gasped, pushing away from Geoff’s chest until he fell back onto the floor. The squish of his diaper was uncomfortable and dammit – the guys probably heard that. He quickly wiped his eyes but refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room. “Just, like, leave for a few minutes and I’ll fucking – I’ll fucking –”

“Shh, shh,” Geoff murmured, calming Michael’s rising panic with a few firm pats on the head. “Michael, it’s fine. Do you not remember when I shit myself laughing during that one baseball Let’s Play?”

“Or when he did it randomly on the couch,” Gavin added in an irritated tone.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Geoff repeated. He took hold of the redhead’s chin and turned his flushed face towards his. Michael caught a fleeting glimpse of the tattooed man’s comforting smile turn into a frown before he quickly covered his face once more.

“Michael,” Geoff scolded, peeling the embarrassed man’s hands away from his flushed cheeks. Watery brown eyes stared at the ground and he refused to look up, even when Geoff directed his gaze upwards. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not,” Michael muttered. When he blinked, a tear rolled down his face. “Agh, fuck,” he cursed in a watery voice, brushing furiously at his eyes.

“Michael, what happened?” Gavin asked, sounding bewildered. There was no malice to his tone, only a thick coating of confusion and slight concern.

“Nothin’,” Michael sniffed. “Had a – had a stomach ache…”

“Alright, well, you’re probably staining your pants, so let’s stand up and get it taken care of,” Jack urged, offering a bear-like hand to the redhead. A very gentle offering. Michael gave the bearded man a teary smile, his first one in hours.

He sucked in a tight inhale, the air feeling as if it was squeaking through a straw. “Okay,” he said weakly, grabbing Jack’s hands and struggling to his feet. Geoff helped him by edging him on with a firm gasp on his upper arm.

Ray made a surprised noise and leaned over to make a low comment to Geoff.

“Uh – Michael?” Geoff asked gingerly. His hand was loose around Michael’s bicep. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a gnarly bout of gas?”

Michael’s cheeks reddened in realization; the diaper was protecting both his boxers and jeans, and though they clearly knew what’d happened, they could see no trace of it and were understandably confused.

He licked his lips. “Um. I’m – I’m sure.”

Uncertain glances were traded amongst the men.

“I’m just – I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Michael continued in a shaky voice. He frowned down at Geoff’s persisted hand on his arm. “Geoff, let go.”

“We’ll help you,” Geoff said.

“No, you won’t,” Michael said, his frown deepening.

“It’s not like we haven’t seen your ass before,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes and smiling. “Given it wasn’t covered in shit, but – oh no. No, no. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Ryan’s backtracking meant nothing to Michael when the redhead’s cheeks flushed an ever deeper shade of red. When Ray gave him a very dirty glare, the blonde made an apologetic face. “Sorry, Michael,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Michael said gruffly. “I’m just being a baby. If you’d just let me go to the bathroom, we can just fucking forget about it, please.”

And then he made a mistake.

His first step towards the door was very clearly a waddle, but that would’ve been normal. If there were feces in his pants, it would’ve been understandable. The sound, however, of the diaper shifting was loud and obvious. As soon as he heard it, Michael stopped dead in his tracks, a blush sprouting high on his cheeks. The tears had long ago dried up, leaving the skin feeling tight and dry, and the grimace he made felt oddly stretched.

Fucking Gavin.

A giggle from the Brit made Michael’s eyes widen, face flushing a blotchy red. He ripped out of Geoff and Jack’s hands, stumbling towards the door in a sorry attempt for escape, but someone predictably caught him before he got there. A hand on the back of his shirt jerked him to a stop, Michael’s fingertips just brushing the doorknob before he was yanked back.

It was Gavin who’d nabbed him, the Brit’s hands tight around the hem of his shirt. His own cheeks were pink, eyes downcast in an apologetic look. The big hazel orbs looked up at him through thick lashes, the perfect picture of a puppy-dog face.

“I didn’t mean to laugh,” Gavin said quickly, not releasing the redhead’s shirt. “But are you - Michael, are you wearing a nappy?”

Michael swatted his hands away hastily. “No,” he lied, backing towards the door. At the looks his boyfriends were sending him, Michael instead felt guilty for lying and closed his eyes, the tears renewed. They weren’t a result of sadness, just an overwhelming amount of emotion, but he was still ashamed. He wiped them away as fast as he could, but it was useless.

Any other situation and he would’ve laughed at their expressions. They were utterly bewildered, confused and worried for the redhead. The look on Geoff’s face, the dumbfounded befuddlement, made him laugh as it was, the noise a watery, weak sound. As he rubbed at his sore eyes, Michael said, “It’s - it’s really not what it looks like.”

“What does it look like?” Geoff murmured, shaking his head. “Because I honestly have no idea.”

“You are!” Gavin cried, causing everyone to look at him, startled. Clearing his throat, he continued in a calmer voice, “You are wearing a nappy! I knew that’s what that sound was. Michael, why the _hell_ are you wearing a nappy?”

“What the hell is a nappy?” Ryan demanded, looking frustrated.

“A diaper,” Jack supplied.

“Oh,” Ryan mumbled, though he looked no more enlightened than he had two minutes ago.

There was a long, awkward silence.

“It’s not what it sounds like,” Michael said timidly. The mess down below was beginning to get severely uncomfortable. “I - I… It’s not a fetish, okay?”

To his surprise, there was a collective sigh of relief. Some of the tension bled from the room as the words were processed.

“Okay,” Geoff said slowly. “So then…?”

Michael licked his lips, feeling hot and uncomfortable under the gazes of his lovers. “I shit myself once in school,” he said bluntly, grimacing. “It - it was terrible. I was already such a fucking nerdy kid. I didn’t have many friends and I looked like a dork. And one morning I guess I just had a lot of milk, because back then I didn’t know I was lactose intolerant, and had an accident third period.” He sniffed. “It was absolutely fucking awful. Everyone thought it was so funny and even some of the teachers were laughing. I was stupid and little, though, so it fucking traumatized me. And it scared me to death, so much that I would freak out every morning before school.”

“Freak out?” Jack said, raising an eyebrow. A look of understanding was slowly dawning upon Geoff and Ryan’s faces, but the rest of the men still looked equally confused.

“Uh, they had a name. Er, what I had had a name,” Michael babbled, waving a hand. “Generalized anxiety something, I don’t remember. But anyway, yeah, so I guess that’s… the reason.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Gavin asked.

Michael glared at him. “Because, Gavin. That would seem ridiculous and I’d look like an idiot.” He paused. “Well, no more of an idiot than I probably look now. Now that you all know, can I _please_ go to the restroom?”

He made to leave the room, opening the door and waddling out, but footsteps behind him made him hesitate. He glanced over his shoulder and paled at the determined face of Geoff, followed by the others.

“No, no, no,” Michael said in a rush. “That’s really not fucking necessary.”

“Doesn’t have to be necessary,” Ray said in a firm voice. He’d been mostly quiet through the entire ordeal, working silently on repairing Michael’s messy desk so the older man had something clean and familiar and organized to come back to and wow - Michael had never been so thankful for Ray’s thoughtfulness.

Michael hesitated in his refusal of their help, the look in the Puerto Rican’s eyes making him falter. His stubborn pride slipped for a moment and Michael quickly fantasized about allowing them in, if only for a few minutes. Michael had always been so closed off towards them in certain aspects of his life, this one included, but some help would be much appreciated, even if it was going to embarrass the hell out of him.

The choice, while definitely still his, was put on hold as Geoff stepped forward to take hold of his arm, gently guiding him to the bathroom. Jack closed the door behind them and locked it, leaving the small room feeling hot and stuffy with six men all gathered inside of it.

Halfway through the clean-up, Michael felt like crying and screaming, humiliation coloring a permanent crimson stain on his cheeks. It was miraculous that no one said anything to him, apparently aware of his near-breakdown, and even Gavin was kind and comforting. The Brit didn’t help much with the disposal, instead petting Michael’s hair soothingly, cooing to him in soft British tones that helped the redhead’s nerves calm. Ray stroked his back, offering encouragement in the form of touch. Michael’s hands shook as he clutched at the bathroom sink, exposed and thoroughly mortified.

However.

When it was over - and it was over fairly quick - Michael released a breath that he’d been holding for over ten years. The air involved seemed to come from all the nooks and crannies in his soul, emptying out the soiled places and leaving Michael feeling breathless and jittery. His eyes pricked with tears of emotion, though this time it was not negative. A weight slid from his chest, the vice around his heart crumbling into small pieces that were washed away with the flood of relief. It was devastating in the best of ways.

They led him back to his desk carefully, smiling and murmuring soft words of praise. Given, he didn’t hear most of them, but the tone in which they were spoken made his chest warm pleasantly.

“See?” Geoff said, pressing a kiss to his temples. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“And if you wanna… you know, wear it again or something,” Gavin said awkwardly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “That’s fine, too. But Michael - you really don’t need it.”

Michael nodded dumbly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take the rest of the day off?” Jack asked for the eleventh time.

“I’m sure,” Michael smiled. “I… thanks, guys. Really.”

They shook their heads in unison.

“Of course, love.”


End file.
